My father is a rural mail carrier, and up until very recently he used his own vehicle on his mail route. It’s a pain in the butt (sometimes literally) to have to sit in the middle of the front seat so you can reach the steering wheel to drive down the side of the road and also reach out the window to the mailboxes, so when I was about eight years old my family got its first right-hand-drive car. On Sundays I used to get up early to go get the newspaper and have breakfast with Dad, and once we got the right-hand-drive vehicle, I’d beg to be allowed to bring the dog along. She’d sit on my lap with her paws on the dashboard and I’d put my seat back so other drivers couldn’t see me. It looked like a mini dachshund was driving the car. I didn’t really get to see, since I was reclined, but Dad got a real kick out of the double takes from the other drivers. (I might be back with more stories later, but this one popped into my head immediately and I had to share. :D)